Flight Paths

When we hit the corner we turn right along the south fence, just behind the old pigpen.  We haven’t had pigs since the boys left home—it would take the two of us a couple of years to go through a whole pig, but with teen-aged boys we managed easily in just a few months.  Pork chops, ribs, hams, sausage, bacon, bacon, and more bacon.  They grew up pork lovers and are to this day.
Yes, we named our pigs.  We always called the males Hamlet, and the females Baconette, except the year we had two boys and the extra one we named Ribster.  It reminded us from the beginning why we had them, and trust me—by the time a pig is ready for slaughter it isn’t cute any longer.  It is about as disgusting a creature as you can imagine.  Slaughtering it was never a problem.  The boys understood early on that we needed these animals to survive and respected them for it.

          Just across the south fence and past the pigpen stands a live oak grove, a peaceful shady retreat we often wished had been on our property instead of the neighbor’s.  He has built a fire ring surrounded by several chairs, with a wood rack between two trees.  He planned outings with his children and cook-outs with his friends and quiet evenings with his wife.  He planted some Australian cypresses along the fence and now, after nearly ten years, they finally conceal his leafy sanctuary, a sanctuary he rarely visits any longer because his children are grown and living hundreds of miles away with all of his grandchildren.  I doubt he used his beautiful spot more than half a dozen times.  His wife passed unexpectedly several years ago. He has rebuffed friendly overtures and declined invitations to church.  We seldom see him any longer, and there hasn’t been even a lonely fire in the fire ring for three or four years.  So much for great plans.
           
          Chloe and I walk along that line of cypresses, peeking through the limbs sometimes, but usually watching the bottom of the fence line instead.  Up ahead of me as usual, Chloe will occasionally stop and sniff around and when I reach her, sure enough, there is a depression in the ground where something slid under the fence during the night.  Possums, coons, foxes, terrapins, sometimes we come across them during the day, but usually not.  The depressions are well worn and even if we fill up the hole, it will be back with a couple of days, or a new one will show up just a few feet down the fence line.  Interlopers will always find a way, and I can always tell from Chloe’s attention and sniff pattern whether something more dangerous has slunk under or not.

            That’s exactly why God gave us elders, because “fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock” Acts 20:29.  Peter warns about false teachers who will infiltrate with “destructive heresies” 1 Pet 2:1.  Jesus himself warned about “false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves” Matt 7:15.  Let me tell you, sheep are just as stupid as pigs are disgusting.  We are too easily led astray, and once they get us away from our shepherds we are just as easily eaten up.

            Our shepherds have a difficult job.  They deserve our respect.  They spend all hours of the day and night protecting us from things we do not even recognize as dangerous.  Like Chloe, they see potential problems we in our ignorance and inexperience miss and all they get for it is accusations about traditionalism, legalism, and cynicism.  We can make their job easier by spending more time in the word so we can recognize false teaching; more time with our brethren so we can share practical knowledge; and more time in safe places instead of hanging around the fence line in the dark of night where the wolves are waiting.
 
Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. 1 John 4:1
 
Dene Ward

Keith has mown a path for me, as safe as a path can be for someone with my eyesight, so I can walk Chloe at least one lap every day with the trekking poles for balance and stability.  Elliptical machines are great for low impact aerobics, but you don’t get any fresh air and the scenery never changes.  With this path I get the best of both.  Let me take you for a stroll this morning, and every morning this week, beginning with the east side.

            When I come out and slip on my walking shoes, Chloe, always waiting expectantly under the porch, bounces out and sits impatiently on the steps, her ears tall and her eyes never leaving me.  “Just a minute,” I tell her, and she seems to have grown to recognize those sounds.  She knows I will indeed be outside shortly, but I wonder if her doggy brain wonders about people having to put on their feet before they come outside?  Sometimes she cannot abide the wait, especially if I have to do more than put on my shoes—like spot Keith as he lifts weights on the other end of the porch—so she gives just a tiny little whine, so anxious she shimmies across the boards on her rear end. 

            As soon as I open the door she is halfway through it.  We cannot go anywhere or do anything until she gets a pat on the head.  Then I say, “Let’s go walk,” and she heads toward the morning sun peeking through the woods, dappling the ground where we walk.  Often she has to stop and wait for me to catch up, but as soon as I round that first corner she is off again, inspecting every mound of dirt, every dew-heavy hanging shrub, every disturbed pile of leaves at the fence bottom.

           Occasionally she will stop and stare through the fence to the property on the other side, heavily wooded, vines snaking up and through the oaks, pines, maples, and wild cherries.  Just over the fence lies the run.  We thought it was a creek when we first moved here, a shallow one but water always sat in the bottom, slowly draining to the south.  Then we went through the drought of the nineties and learned differently.  It’s a run.  Whenever rain comes through, the land on all sides of us for at least a half mile in every direction, runs into that narrow, deep channel and heads for the swamp a mile to the south.  After a typical summer afternoon downpour the water will rush loudly, white water at the bends and at every drop, carrying with it leaves and limbs shed by the overhanging branches. 

          You do not realize how powerful water moving downhill can be until you see the aftermath.  We came out one morning to find the trash can washed up against the south fence, the run itself clear of all debris, and the pigs in the southeastern pigpen a pinky white they hadn’t been since they were born.  Only a small circle in the center of their backs remained black and muddy.  Good thing they managed to find a high spot so they could get their noses up out of the rushing water that had gushed through the fence and cut the southeast corner.  We had no idea the water could rise that high.

          The power of water is a constant theme in the Bible.  We completely misunderstand 1 Pet 3:20,21, especially when we read the newer translations that make water not something that saves, but something to be saved from.  Leave your new version a moment and look at the old ASV translation:   …the longsuffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was a preparing, wherein few, that is, eight souls, were saved through water: which also after a true likeness doth now save you, even baptism…  The waters of the flood saved Noah by bringing him and his family safely out of a world of sin, into a new world, one that was washed pure and clean.  Baptism does the same for us.  It saves us from the world of sin we live in, raising us to a new life free from sin—a chance to start over, this time with help from above.  It also washes away the detritus of our old lives, if we let it, if we are willing to let go of the baggage and surrender all to the Lord.

           Water had saved the Israelites in a similar way.  They were “baptized” in the cloud and in the sea, walls of water on the side, a roof of vapor overhead. And then with a whoosh of water, God destroyed their enemies and set them in a new world, one where He and they were to enjoy a covenant relationship, 1 Cor 10:1ff.
         
          Amos uses water to symbolize the power found in justice and righteousness.  Israel thought that multiplying sacrifices and feasts and other religious observances was all that mattered.  God would be pleased, especially if the prescribed rites were even more elaborate than commanded.  Then their lives during the rest of the week wouldn’t count against them.  The prophet told them differently, “Let justice roll down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream,” 5:24.
          That is just a small sample of the passages using water as a symbol.  Spend some time today, as I did on my walk with Chloe, meditating on the simplest drink known to man.
 
Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for Jehovah, even Jehovah, is my strength and song; and he is become my salvation. Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of salvation. And in that day shall ye say, Give thanks unto Jehovah…Isa 12:2-4
 
Dene Ward

On April 2, 1931, Jackie Mitchell, a seventeen year old rookie with the Southern Association’s AA Chattanooga Lookouts, was put on the mound in relief when the Yankees stopped by for an exhibition game on the way home from spring training. 

            The first batter to face Mitchell was Babe Ruth.  The rookie pitched a ball.  Then came a swing and a miss, twice.  The next pitch was a called strike.  In four pitches the teenager had struck out Babe Ruth.

            Next up was Lou Gehrig—three swings and three misses—OUT. 

            Did I mention that Jackie was a girl?

            Before the game Ruth had commented:  “[Women] will never make good [in baseball].  Why?  Because they’re too delicate.  It will kill them to play every day.”  Then he and his fellow future Hall-of-Famer were promptly struck out by a woman, and a teenage rookie at that.

            And when the Philistine looked about and saw David, he disdained him for he was but a youth, and ruddy, and withal of fair countenance.  And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog that you come to me with staves?  And the Philistine cursed David by his gods, 1 Sam 17:42,43.

            Goliath had the same problem Babe Ruth did.  He thought he was invincible.  Certainly a young, inexperienced teenager couldn’t beat him.  Even some of God’s own people thought the same, especially David’s brothers.  “What are you doing here, you little twerp?  You left your work just to come watch the battle, didn’t you?”

            We say all the time that we have faith, that we know God can handle anything.  Yet when we see God’s methods, we instantly doubt.  “This can’t be right.  It’ll never work.”  We find ourselves standing with the Jews who rejected our Lord.  “Who does he think he is?  He’s just the carpenter’s son.  This is God’s idea of a king?” 

            What kinds of giants are you attempting to slay in your life?  Anger, depression, addiction, foul language, a persistent sin that it seems you can never control?  Are you in the middle of a painful and debilitating illness?  Have you lost someone close to you, someone you are not sure you can live without?  Has a long persistent trial depleted you of spiritual energy?  If a teenage rookie can strike out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig back to back, something God doesn’t even care about, much less would intervene in, why can’t I strike out the problems that beset me when the Almighty God has promised to help me do just that? 

            How many times has God conquered a nation with just a handful?  Review today the stories of Gideon, of Jonathan and his armor bearer, of the angel of the Lord who struck down 180,000 Assyrians in one night to save the besieged nation of Judah.  Think about Esther who saved an entire race of people without a miracle, about Jehosheba who thwarted a massacre by stealing a baby away in the night thus saving the Messianic dynasty from the pollution of Ahab’s sin.  Remember the many parents who raised children in faith, children who grew up to save countless numbers with their preaching—Zacharias and Elizabeth, Eunice, Mary of Jerusalem, and of course, Mary and Joseph, insignificant people making a more than significant impact because they trusted God to help them.

            God can accomplish anything He wants to accomplish, any way He wants to accomplish it.  If I think otherwise, I might very well be keeping Him from accomplishing something wonderful through me.  Open your heart this morning.  Un-tether your faith from thoughts of impossibilities, and fasten on to a God who knows no limits. 
 
And Asa cried unto Jehovah his God and said, Jehovah, there is none besides you to help, between the mighty and him that has no strength.  Help us, O Jehovah our God, for we rely on you and in your name are we come against this multitude. O Jehovah, you are our God, let no man prevail against you, 2 Chron 14:11.
 
Dene Ward

But solid food is for full-grown men, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil, Heb 5:14.
 
            I was amazed to find out that “full-grown” is more often translated “perfect,” at least in the ASV.  That is ironic to me, because while I will quickly say, “I am not perfect,” I would find myself a little miffed if I were called “spiritually immature.”  At my age?  Surely I am a mature Christian by now.
            So I looked up that Greek word and the places it is translated “perfect.”  It quickly became apparent that the word does not mean “sinless.”  While we understand that the meaning of a word varies according to its context in English, we seem to forget that when it comes to reading the Bible and talking about those Hebrew and Greek words.  Yet, in any language, the meaning of a word is limited by its use.  And so I read “mature” in every passage I found that word translated “perfect,” and found out how to recognize a mature Christian. [When you read all these passages, be sure to read “spiritually mature” every time you see “perfect.”]
            The maturity level of a Christian is shown by how he treats his enemies (Matt 5:43-48), by how he controls his tongue (James 3:2), by how attached he is to his earthly possessions (Matt 19:21).  A mature Christian is not easily deceived, not changeable from day to day, and speaks from a motivation of love, even when correcting someone, not from a desire for revenge, or from a feeling of arrogance, and certainly not to cause controversy for the sake of controversy (Eph 4:13-15).  A mature Christian will endure, (James 1:4), and in fact, stand fully assured of his salvation (Col 4:12).  When I look at those characteristics I can see that I have a way to go before I finally grow up, but at least I have some detailed areas to work on now instead of blindly aiming for some sort of vague idea of maturity or perfection.
            One of the residents at the medical school recently told me that I did not look as old as my chart said I was.  That was a nice moment in the day, one totally unexpected.  Wouldn’t if be awful though, if he had said that I didn’t act as old as I was?  That is where the test comes—not in how long I have been a Christian, but in how much I have grown as one.
 
So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us.  God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. By this is love [made mature] with us, that we may have confidence in the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world, 1 John 4:16,17.
           
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

Or, in the words of Jesus, “Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.”

Seems to me that we have blunted the meaning of, “REPENT!” with all sorts of rationalizations:
“That is just the way I am,”
“I am doing the best I can and one’s best is all that God requires,”
“Overall, I am walking in the light, I just have this one problem.”

Repent means change. It does not mean doing the thing less often. A thief does not repent by only holding up 1 store a month instead of 1 a day. Overall, our approach denies the “power of godliness” to change one completely.

We have substituted the power of a magic partaking of the Lord’s Supper for repentance. We seem to believe that if we really think really hard about Jesus’ sacrifice while we partake, and pray hard and feel real, real sorry for our failings (lets not use that 3 letter “S” word), then we will be OK. But, then we did that last week, and the week before and….
 
And we continue in the same sinful habits, maybe less often: “I’m getting better!”

Sounds a lot like 2 Cor 7, doesn’t it, where Paul contrasts this with the godly sorrow that works repentance and calls it a sorrow of the world that leads to death.

One may slip and fall after he repents, may even do so more than once. But, repentance means one stops the wrong behavior. God gives us the power to do so, the power of Christ in us, the hope of Glory. We, on the other hand, keep one foot in the pleasures and proclaim, “I am making progress.”

JUST SAY NO.
 
STOP!
 
OR PERISH.
 
For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter.  (2Cor 7:11).
Do you not know that if you yield yourselves to any one as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? (Rom 6:16)                                                           
Keith Ward

My boys survived on hand-me-downs, including hand-me-down toys.  An acquaintance gave us one of those molded plastic “rocking horses” that hang suspended by four large springs on a tubular steel frame.  The boys were so young we had to hold them on it at first, but before long they could mount it and ride on their own, the steady, groaning sproing, sproing, sproing reaching my ears as I worked in the kitchen.  As they grew older and gained experience with western heroes, particularly a certain Texas Ranger who wore a mask, I often heard shouts of, “Giddy-up,” “Whoa,” and finally, “Hi-yo Silver, awaaaaaay!”

            In their active little minds they traveled everywhere on that horse, despite the fact that they never left the room.  Sometimes we have the same problem.

            I have seen good, sincere, faithful Christians hamstring themselves by riding a certain hobby nearly to death.  No matter what subject comes up, they can finagle it around to their favorite topic.  After awhile you learn to avoid certain words that function like detonators on a land mine.  We often accuse preachers of this problem, but it can happen to us just as easily, not only about topics, but about people too.

            When you can only focus on the aggravating things about a person, you fail to see the good in them.  When all you can see are the annoyances in the church, you fail to gain the encouragement you need from the assembling together of a spiritual family.  When one pet peeve is all you see in any passage of scripture, you fail to see the things you yourself need in order to grow and improve.  Obsession can rob you of any influence you might otherwise have because everyone will just say, “There s/he goes again,” automatically dismissing anything you say.

            It is even worse when the thing the “equestrian” goes on about is actually a good and right thing.  He simply makes more of it than it deserves because to him it has become a holy grail.  He can make it seem that anyone who does not share his opinion has some sort of deep-seeded problem with a) love; b) authority; c) faithfulness; d) all of the above, choose whatever fits the occasion.  So division often occurs, if not in fact, then in spirit, because in his arrogance he believes that this “thing” is the root of every other problem we might possibly have and important enough to cause a fuss about.

            The rider may think he sees better than others, but all he is seeing is one tiny corner of the Word, while the rest remains hidden behind his self-imposed blinders.  He may think he is enjoying an amazing ride on a marvelous steed, but he is sitting on a swayback nag in the middle of a field, going nowhere.  At least the children eventually get off the horse. 

            It is a whole lot easier to get on the horse than to get off it.  Sometimes we don’t even realize that is what we have done.  Do you need to get off yours and take a new look around?  It might surprise you how far you have not come—but it’s the first necessary step to going farther.
 
Of these things put them in remembrance, charging them in the sight of the Lord, that they strive not about words, to no profit, to the subverting of those who hear.  Give diligence to present yourself approved unto God, a workman who does not need to be ashamed, handling aright the word of truth. 2 Tim 2:14,15.
 
Dene Ward

Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me,
All His wonderful passion and purity.
May His Spirit divine all my being refine
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me.

When your burden is heavy and hard to bear
When your neighbors refuse all your load to share
When you're feeling so blue, Don't know just what to do
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in you.

When somebody has been so unkind to you,
Some word spoken that pierces you through and through.
Think how He was beguiled, spat upon and reviled,
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in you

From the dawn of the morning till close of day,
In example in deeds and in all you say,
Lay your gifts at His feet, ever strive to keep sweet
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in you.
 
            This one will probably go in a direction you never expected.  Look at the third verse.  Read it through once, twice, or as many times as it takes to find the problem. 

            If you haven’t found it after half a dozen readings, don’t be too hard on yourself.  After all, I sang this song for five decades before I saw it.  Will it help to tell you the problem is in the third line of that verse?

            Hardly anyone I have spoken to sees it.  But tell me this, when was Jesus ever “beguiled?”  I have checked over half a dozen dictionaries, and that word always has something to do with being “deceived.”  Look at 2 Cor 11:3:  But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve in his craftiness...

            I looked up every usage of that Greek word in the New Testament (5) and they all mean the same thing, sometimes even translated “deceived.”  In fact, Rom 7:11, says sin beguiled us.  Now tell me that has anything at all to do with our Lord.

            What I really do not understand is the extent people will go to in order to make this lyric scriptural.  One person frantically searched more and more dictionaries until he found some “forty-fifth” definition that might possibly make the word mean something besides deception.  But tell me, is it a good word choice if I have to stand on my head and do cartwheels in order to find anything that will make the concept correct, when the easy, normal use of the word is anything but?  Why would anyone be so desperate to prove a hymn written by a man did not have an error in it?  (No, he was not related to the man.) 

            I find I cannot sing that line in the song any longer.  The rest is perfectly fine and full of wonderful thoughts and I sing them “with the spirit and the understanding.” 

            But all this trouble over one word makes me wonder what else we try to hang onto that might be a whole lot more important.  We have things to say about friends and neighbors who cannot seem to let go of a doctrine they have believed all their lives, even when we show them a clear passage on the subject.  Maybe it’s time to ask ourselves if we would really be any better.
 
But I am afraid that as the serpent beguiled Eve by his cunning, your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ. 2Cor 11:3
 
Dene Ward

My writing teacher taught me that the final sentence can make or break a story, essay, or speech.  What she actually said was, “Too many people don’t know when to shut up.”  She told us to make the last line, or at least the last phrase, short and punchy so it would stick in people’s memories for at least a while after they put our writing down or walked away from our speeches.  If you keep on going, you weaken the impact of what should have been the last sentence, and no one will remember it.

            There have been times the last sentence took me days to come up with.  I ended the essay just to get it finished, then walked away and turned the thing over in my head until finally, as long as a week later, I came up with that punchy last line.  There have also been times when I never found it—I just hoped I hadn’t ruined the whole thing with my failure. 

            The last word of our lives is just as important.  Sometimes we want to rest on our laurels, laurels that become bigger to us as the years go by, so big we often get lost in their branches.  I once heard an old retired preacher who could not sit in the Bible class without reminding everyone of all he had done in the past.  The subject at hand made this particularly ironic.  It must have finally struck him that everyone else was talking about their past mistakes and the things they had learned in life which had helped them develop humility.  He finally spoke up with, “Oh, as I became older I realized I had been wrong about a few things when I was young—but not very many!”  Since we were visiting and he was quite elderly, I went away hoping that did not turn out to be his last word before the Lord.

            We cannot count on things we did long ago to save us; we cannot choose what will be our last word and expect God to forget what came after.  God told Ezekiel, When I say to the righteous, that he shall surely live; if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered; but in his iniquity that he has committed, therein shall he die, 33:13.  God expects us to continue doing right as long as we live.  He expects us to continue serving others in whatever way we can.  Those right things may change as our circumstances do; our “serving” may reach the point of simple example as our bodies deteriorate.  We may actually become the tool to allow others to serve—saying “yes” when others offer to help is just as important, and humble, as offering the help.  For many of us, “Thank you,” to a loving brother or sister may be the last words we utter.

            God, the Righteous Judge, will be the one with the last word in our final judgment.  Nothing I say or do can change the fact that I have sinned and deserve eternal punishment, but the grace of God gives me hope.  The last word I want to hear before I leave the realm of Time and enter Eternity is, “Forgiven.”
 
This is the end of the matter; all has been heard: fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole of man, Eccl 12:13.
 
Dene Ward

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps, Matt 25:1-4.
 
            Every time we hear this parable the same point is made—it was foolish to have no oil for their lamps.  But one thing has always struck me from the outset of this little story.  Why were they carrying lamps in the first place if they didn’t also pick up some oil?  It’s like carrying a gun in a dangerous place but no ammunition.  It’s like carrying a hair dryer to a primitive campsite.  It’s like peeling a five pound bag of potatoes with no pot to cook them in.  Why bother? 

Does that mean the story isn’t valid?  Nope.  I see those same foolish people every Sunday.  They get up early to come to church and sit on a pew and a listen to the preacher—but they have made no commitment to God, to their Lord, or to their brothers and sisters.  They do absolutely nothing all week long—no Bible reading, no praying, no serving.  They live exactly the way they want to live, and usually don’t get caught.  Or maybe they are relatively moral, having been taught by their parents to be good people—not because God requires righteousness of His servants.  In fact, God is the last person on their minds in every decision they make.

What’s going to happen when the trumpet sounds?  They will suddenly realize they did not bring any oil.  They carried a lamp every Sunday and somehow thought it would light itself or give off light simply because it was a lamp, or who knows what irrational reason. 

You know that word translated "foolish"?  It means “stupid.”  It’s the word moros.  Look familiar?  I think it’s the word we get “moron” from.  Don’t be a moron.  If you plan to carry a lamp, put some oil in it.  Maybe carry some extra.  Sitting on the pew never has saved anyone, and it won’t save you.
 
​“What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the LORD; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of well-fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. “When you come to appear before me, who has required of you this trampling of my courts? Bring no more vain offerings; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and Sabbath and the calling of convocations— I cannot endure iniquity and solemn assembly. Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hates; they have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them. When you spread out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. ​Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause, Isa 1:11-17.
 
Dene Ward
 

One of my writing teacher’s favorite metaphors was something she called “the abstraction ladder.”  She told us we wrote in forgettable generalities.  “You have to bring it down the ladder,” she said.  Then she began to show us what she meant.
 
           On the board she wrote, “Meat cooking in a pan.”  What kind of meat?  What kind of cooking?  What kind of pan?  “Bring it down the ladder,” she said.  “Make it appeal to as many senses as possible.” 

            Under the offending phrase she drew a large ladder. Then, as we answered each question, she rewrote the original phrase, placing each clarification down another rung on the ladder.  Gradually that blah little phrase became more and more concrete.  At the bottom of the ladder we wound up with, “Bacon sizzling in a cast iron skillet.”  Suddenly you could see it, you could hear it, you could even smell it. 

            Learning all the Bible stories is essential to a Christian.  All those narratives make the abstract commands more concrete.  “Flee fornication,” Paul says in 1 Cor 6:18.  The concrete illustration is Joseph in Genesis 39.  Look at all the things Joseph did to help himself—first he said no to the woman, then he did his best to avoid being alone with her, and when finally she caught him, literally, he simply ran. 

            But even recognizing that does not bring it down the ladder far enough.  I must apply it to my own life.  What temptations do I struggle with?  Do I even get past the point of saying no?  Do I avoid the temptation or try to see how close I can get?  Do I think I need to prove something and so stand there and try to overcome the temptation when the wiser thing would be to run away?

            That is just a small example of how the Scriptures should affect my life.  Men stand and pray at the end of practically every sermon that we will “make application” to our lives.  Too often we don’t even try.  Too often even the sermons themselves are void of specific concrete examples to help us find a way to apply them.  In actually making pointed applications, even made-up situations, the preacher is likely to hit a nail right on the head accidentally.  Maybe that is why we don’t hear too many specific applications.  That means we need to try even harder to do it for ourselves.

            God meant for the scriptures to lead us to Heaven.  We have the mistaken notion that we need to stay at the top of the ladder to get there.  But in this case, the closer we get to the bottom, the more likely we will make it.
 
This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth, but you shall meditate thereon day and night, that you may observe to do according to all that is written therein: for then you shalt make your way prosperous, and then you shall have good success, Josh 1:8.
 
Dene Ward